Kabataa’y minsan lamang kung dumalaw,
Kaligayaha’t halakhaka’y umaalingawngaw
Oras ay tumatakbo
singbilis ng tibok ng puso

Oras ang kumakain sa tanan
Pagbabago’y siyang tahanan
Paglayo’y di man dama
Agwat ay di kayang hilai’t isama

Noon at ngayong panahon
Kayo’y narito, ako’y naroon
Aking nasilaya’y di niyo maikukumpara
Sa inyong mundong bumubungad sa tuwina

Pangaral ay mano po at opo
Pagluhod sa butyl ng monggo
Pag uwi bago ang ala-sais
Mga tamis anghang na pulang dilis!

Pag-akyat ng matarik na bundok
Tuhod na kung lakas sumuntok
Kalarong di makatiis
Sa pagtakbo’y humahagibis

Langit, lupa, mahuli ang taya,
Sing saya tuwing gunita.
Paglalaro ng apir-apiran at teks,
Ice tubig, sili…. Ngeks!

Ganyan ang aming buhay noon
Nakasakay sa ulap nang mga hamon
Kayo ngayo’s nasaan,
Mga batang sa ami’y nakipaghalinhinan?


Kompyuter, telebisyon, at Nintendo Wii,
Cellphone at iPad para sa sarili
Sining ng pagtula’t musika,
Nakaliligtaan na!

Sa mga mata ng panahon,
Makikita ang salamin ng kahapon
Di man naabot ng inyong kamalayan
Sapat nang silipin ang nakaraan

Inyong panaho’y ‘wag sayangin
Darating din ang araw ng mabilis na hangin
Magdadala sa inyo sa malayong himpapawirin
At nakaraa’y inyong lubos na nanaisin.

Sng oras ay oras,
Sa kanya, tayo’y patas
Sa buhay, tayo’y maglalaro
Sa kanyang mga hintuturo.

Lahat ng nawala sa dagat ng panahon,
Kailanma’y din a ibabalik pa ng mga alon
Mga isda nga’y nagpapailalim
Kaya’t marahas na kinabukasa’y wag suungin

Magngyari’t lasapin ang halakhakan,
Takbuhan sa piling ng mga kaibigan
Wag sayangin sa pagkukulong
sa mundo ng pag-ibig, gadgets at pagsulong!

Gurl stops meking out
n asked boi to get potartz
he dus
den gurl teks deep breff
and gurl sais
bf
I am pregnent
will u stay ma bf
n he seys
"NO"
gurl iz hertbrokn
gurl cried n runz awaii from boi wiffout eatin poptart
n she has low blood suga
so she fols
boi runs ova 2 her
She Ded
boi crie
I sed I no be ur bf
cuz i wona b ur husband!
he screems
n frows poptart @ wol
a bootiful diomand ring wus insyd

LIK DIS IF U CRY EVERTIM!!!!

Wi yer eyes stingin n wet wi tears
N muk bungin up tha nose n ears
N a white rimmed ed where thi's ad thi hat
Up tha floats on't lift like a drownded rat

After twelve hours tha's pretty dun in
Whilst t'other folks as been kippin n dreamin
Tha's bin diggin n drillin like summart daft
Now up tha floats on't hydraulic raft

The cold morn air meks tha lungs urt
Cause tha's bin breathin muk n dirt
Fer nigh on forty years or more
That most folks wudn't ave on't floor

N as tha washes all't muk away
Tha knows thas sum that'll allus stay
N whilst outside tha luks nice n clean
Tha's stuff inside thi th't'll never be seen

Until o course tha's gon n died
N them docter fellers tek a look inside
N in amazement they'll stand n stare
At all that muk th't shudn't be there

N wen tha's ded it'll be nowt new
Not too a bloke what's lived like you
Fer now tha's on'y six feet under
Wen undreds is what thas bin used to

N't Crowner'll say thi ad a natural death
Not like them th't had their last breath
At sixteen, seventeen, twenty or more
When sum big explosions brought ceiling t floor

But a doubt if tha'll think it wer thi turn
As tha lays there nattering t worm
Crawlin in n out o yer ears
Not much t show fer sixtyodd years

Still what else cud you ave dun, that's it
But follow yer old man down pit
A mean even his dad was a facer tha knows
Kem out at thirty wi' ands like claws

Ah well it's time fer sum grub
Then half-a-dozen pints't pub
Wi an hour or two o noonday sun
Then back t wife fer an hour o fun
N be six next morning I'll be feelin well
As I teks yon raft t bowels of 'ell
Thirty shillin a week be summer the reckonin
Ah but then they can't see yon worm beckonin


Remember this is a 'Performance Poem'
and the style of writing acts as a
speech prompt. The accent is loosely
Yorkshire. A 'Crowner 'is an old word
for a Coroner.
I hope you enjoy it.

© David Irwin Phillips 2008

Jam tujuh pagi tadi Ibu mengetuk pintu
Bunyi ketukan itu sampai empat kali terulang
Di ketukan empat setengah,
Pintu terbuka setengah juga
“Ya?”
“Mandi, Mbak.”
“Pingin tidur lagi.”
“Tapi hari ini hari kemenangan.”
Raut wajahnya yang telah menjadi warisanku tak sedikitpun menunjukkan bahwa dia telah memenangkan apapun.
Tidak seperti kebanyakan orang,
Untuknya hari ini bukanlah tentang seberapa kental kolam santan yang menyimbahi santapan-santapan
Bukan juga tentang berpeluk-rindu dengan orang-orang sambil sesekali bertukar kabar
Lelah mengutuk dirinya karena seumur hidup merasa kalah,
Aku tahu bahwa sehari saja ia ingin merasa menang.
Ia sendiri tahu betul saat hari ini berakhir dan tamu berpamit untuk pulang setelah semua habis terkunyah; ia akan kembali merasa kalah.
Menang atas dan untuk apa?
Seribu kata maaf pun ia telan begitu saja tanpa mencerna kata tersebut keluar dari mulut siapa
Tanpa adanya hari kemenangan yang dibanjiri oleh teks bersampul maaf,
Hidupnya memang sudah tentang meminta maaf dan memaafkan
Tak ada pilihan lain.
Hanya saja hari ini sinar sendu wajahnya menunjukkan bahwa akhirnya,
Setidaknya untuk dia,
Harapan pahitnya terhadap ‘maaf dan memaafkan’ akan diselebrasikan;
Dan seperti dirinya, lebih dari sejuta orang akan melakukannya walaupun untuk sehari saja.
Kepada siapa lagi ia harus meminta maaf dan meminta dimaafkan?

School was a pleasing dream
a world of wonder
in which I yearned
to get through the door
to the desk
to my graphite, with its #2
That scent of worn paper
and paste upon the wood
my place of reprieve
full of my passions like a
kid in a toy shop
a poor boy in a rich man's world
that was when school was
a neverending treasure trove
with golden coin upon coin
but then was suddenly halted by a hard brick wall
the word testing carved against the stones

3rd grade hit
and then my mind
began to bite their words
turning them to solid stone
as time passed on my thoughts degraded
till all was gray
and uniform
like a blonde child in a **** school
mind wiped and reprogrammed
forced to stay in line
scolded to sit still
throwing culture out the window
till only the standardized colors of a flag remained

Now I’m just a bibliophile
sitting atop a pile
with books and texts throughout the ages
heaped under my feet
but I can not make out their stories
For their pages are blackened
and their words blurred
like a rushing river of soiled ink
caused by cluttered shelves
in the library of my mind
that has been burned by torches
held by men and women in suits and ties
holding badges of authority
like my mind is a criminal
being investigated by the FBI

They tell me I should know
that it’s easy
1, 2, 3 go
but I can’t
they locked my door
once they began to teach their TEKS
my colors hid and got locked beneath
and now my mindsets stuck
with no hope for release
What was a rainbow
with it’s *** of golden words
Now resides a rusting locker
with chipping paint and faded words

The creative concepts once in my head
have been broken by just five letters
that changed my words to dull markings
and erased the color from my thoughts
like the page in a coloring book quickly erased
so the sky would be blue instead of magenta
because the sky can never be anything else but blue

Five letters that I thought defined who I was
that I was always worried to fail
A big red F peeking over my shoulder
Five letters that could destroy
thinking that they controlled my fate
three old ladies threatening with their scissors and thread
to cut a cord made of multiple choice answers
Five letters that could mean success
or doom

like a hazy brained plan to stop a war
that could only continue to grow worse as
each soldier fell while running through the minefield of society

But those five letters are just a tool
To add an extra grade
and a little more rules
Stamping labels upon our IQ
Taking away our peace and serenity
Angling our goals away from our own
Adding stress upon tentative minds
Redirecting our thoughts from right to left
so suddenly trees are plastic and
the alphabet only has letters A-H
and all we know are large cement buildings
instead of fields of flowers
My whole world in a pint sized room
with flowing waterfalls that burst from my imagination
obscured by bland walls and heavy doors
Colorful assemblies with
shushing giants making up a chorus
irony written on every poster of every wall
learn and you’ll pass
go to sleep and you’ll pass
eat healthy and you’ll pass
no need for imagination
no need for outside experience
just sit in that chair
and take that quiz
that test
that exam
that benchmark
We’ll have fun later in the year,
but that better not be your essay topic
and that story better not be fiction
And all the while I scream

I want color
I want the sky to be magenta
I want to use every word and phrase available to me
I want to soar as crane flying across a lake
I want to run like a track star to the the finish
Throw down the pencils
the printed paper
throw away the charts and empty messages on the walls
I want to run down the halls
and dance instead of sit
I want to sing instead of speak
I want to learn instead of being taught

But all I can do is sit
All I can do is write
All I can do is conform
So I won’t be thrown in the trash
like a piece of worthless junk
that still has a purpose
So i won’t be stuck in the same room for more than eighteen years
like a prison sentence for not knowing the laws of this country
So i won’t be left behind
like the homeless in the streets

School was a joy
Education was a treasure
But now is defiled
by one
small
packet of paper

Nusprend=iau apversti klaviat8r1
Daba kai ra6ysiu, tai darysiu tingiai
Teks 6ifroti mano tekst1 per kompiuter5
Nes antraip suprasit sunkiai

Bet kai nor4siu b8ti rai6kesn4
Apversiu visk1 auk6tyn kojomĄ
Lietuvi6kos raid4s taps skai2iaisĄ
O 6auktukai - raid4mĄ